


Ha, Band Nerds

by Artificially_Inane



Category: GOT7, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 9001 percent jisung and hyunjin fighting, Chan plays tenor sax, Changbin plays sousaphone, Felix is disabled, Felix is in pit, Hyunjin aboslutely hates Jisung, Hyunjin plays tenor drums, JYP is the band director, Jackson is drum major, Jeongin plays flute, Jisung is in color guard, M/M, Marching Band AU, Minho plays trumpet, Seungmin plays clarinet, Slow Burn, jisung is a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artificially_Inane/pseuds/Artificially_Inane
Summary: "You can catch a rifle, but can you catch my feelings?"orthe stray kids au my friends asked for and everyone secretly wantedUPDATE: kwj has been taken out of the story.
Relationships: Bang Chan/No one yet I'll decide if I want him to be with anyone later, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84





	1. Let the Bitch Starve

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for being unable to write long chapters

“Mr. Park!” Jisung screeched, bursting into the band room. “I need to talk with yo-” a loud shriek and a crash could be heard as the boy tripped and knocked over several (thankfully empty) instrument cases. After a few dead silent moments, he stood and brushed himself off. He looked around the room and waved. “Hi.”   
  
“You. Get the hell out,” a boy said, pointing at Jisung with his drumstick.

“Hyunjin, language,” another boy, who was standing on a chair in front of the band, chastised.   
  
“Sorry. I meant to say get the fuck out, bitch,” Hyunjin said angrily.

Jisung stuck his tongue out at the boy before skipping into Mr. Park’s office.

No less than five minutes later, Mr. Park walked out of his office with a hand on a brightly smiling Jisung’s shoulder.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet our newest member of the color guard, Han Jisung!” he said, and a shriek of indignation erupted from Hyunjin.

“I am not going to be in band with that thing!” the boy yelled, and a trumpet player smacked him on the back of the head.

“Shut up. You’re too loud. Take your quarreling outside after band camp is over,” the boy deadpanned, turning back to face the front.

The drummer turned bright red with anger. “You know what, Minho,” he hissed.

“I’m better than you?” Minho asked, causing a quiet giggle to slip past Jisung’s lips.

Hyunjin glared at him, and the boy shrank away from his gaze.

“Hyunjin, be nice to the new recruits,” a saxophone player said. “Just because he’s cuter than you doesn’t mean you need to be an ass.”   
  
Hyunjin’s face darkened into a horrendous shade of purple. “You little bitch,” he hissed.

“ENOUGH!” the boy on the chair yelled, and everyone shut up immediately. The boy turned to Jisung and smiled warmly. “I’m Jackson, one of your drum majors for this year. The color guard is practicing in the gym, so you can go join them.”   
  
Jisung nodded and scurried from the room, yelling “Thank you!” before the door swung shut.

A few hours later, they were dismissed for a lunch break. Jisung made his way into the band room, and after looking around decided to just sit in the corner. He hadn’t really thought that he would be staying to practice, so he hadn’t brought a lunch, and was severely regretting it. A shadow fell across him and he looked up to see the boy that had been standing on the chair in front of him. “Hi,” Jisung said timidly.

“Where’s your food?” Jackson asked. “You need to keep your energy up, especially since you’re in color guard.”   
  
“I-I didn’t really think I’d be staying so I didn’t bring any,” Jisung said.

Jackson frowned. “Come sit with me, you can have some of my lunch.”   
  
Jisung nodded and stood, following Jackson to a group of six boys. Jisung looked around at them and groaned quietly when he saw a familiar face among them.

Hyunjin looked up and glowered at him. “What are you doing here?”   
  
“Hyunjin, be nice,” Jackson said. “I invited him to sit with us because he looked lonely, plus he doesn’t have any food.”   
  
“Then let the bitch starve,” Hyunjin muttered, earning a smack on the back of the head from Jackson.

Jisung sat down beside a boy with black hair. “H-hi, I’m Jisung.”   
  
“Changbin,” the boy said. “That’s Chan, Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin. You already know Jackson and Hyunjin, and there’s another guy too, his name’s Felix.”

Jisung nodded, glancing around. Minho leaned in close to him, examining his face. “You have nice lips,” he said matter-of-factly, and Jisung smiled.

“Yours aren’t too bad either.”

Minho laughed. “I like you already.”

A tapping could be heard coming up behind Jisung, and he turned to see a blonde boy with freckles moving to sit beside him. He scooted over, and the boy smiled.

“I’m going to have to sit on a chair anyways, you don’t have to move over,” he said, and Jisung realized the boy had forearm crutches strapped to his arms.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” Jisung said, looking down.

“It’s fine,” the boy said, shaking his head and smiling. “You’re Jisung, right?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, I am.”   
  
“I’m Felix,” the boy said. “Let’s be friends.”   
  
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Hyunjin shrieked, but Jisung ignored him and smiled at Felix.

“Yes,” he said, a wide smile blooming on his face. “Let’s.”


	2. ford: fix or repair daily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chan is stressed and can't deal. Jackson doesn't help. Plus an unreliable Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn this thing is finally getting updated wow

Chan was beyond stressed.  _ Being a junior in high school was probably the worst thing that could happen to someone _ , he decided, rushing to the band room to get ready for marching band, in the vain hope that he could get out to the field with his saxophone and drill charts in two minutes.  _ I’d drop out, but that’d mean no marching band. _ He grabbed his tenor sax, which he had affectionately dubbed Robin when he’d purchased it.

When he arrived on the practice field, Jackson had shot him a look that would rival that of anyone’s mother. Even yours, dear reader, if you can believe that. “Take a lap, Chan,” he said, and Chan set down Robin before beginning to run. Rehearsal was a struggle, what with a small mishap in drill that normally wouldn’t have been a big deal, but suddenly had Jackson glaring daggers at him. Chan reset quickly when they were told to do so, but had a bitter thought stuck in his head.  _ If I’m going to be glared at every time I slightly mess up, I might as well leave. _

During a water break, Jackson approached him. “Chan.”

Chan’s grip on his water bottle tightened. “Yeah, Jackson?”   
  
“Could you stay for a bit after rehearsal ends? We need to talk about your tendencies to be late,” Jackson said.

“No, actually, I can’t,” Chan said, anger beginning to boil in his veins. “In fact, I need to leave right now.” With that, he stormed off the field, leaving a stunned Jackson, and frankly, the rest of the band, in his wake.

He put Robin back in his case and picked it up before walking out to his car, groaning in annoyance when he saw Jackson standing by it. “Just let me leave,” he said, unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat, setting Robin in the passenger’s.

“What is going on with you, Chan?” Jackson asked. “You’re being such an ass.”   
  


“You’re not such a nice guy yourself,” Chan said, starting up the car.

“Chan, I’m asking because I care,” Jackson said.

“Funny, because it doesn’t really seem like you do,” Chan said coldly. He slammed the car into reverse and backed out of his parking spot before driving away, leaving Jackson standing on the sidewalk. He drove to his house, grabbing his things from the car and locking it behind him before walking inside. No one was home, as per usual, and Chan headed upstairs, slumping into his desk chair. He glanced at his watch.  _ Two hours before work _ , he thought, pulling his books out of his bag. He began working on his homework, ignoring his phone. The Caller ID kept lighting up with Jackson’s number, but he shoved the phone into his desk drawer and kept working. Before he knew it, the two hours had gone by and he had to rush out of his house for work.

\--

Work had been more exhausting than the rest of the day, and Chan wanted nothing more than to just go home and rest. Maybe not sleep, but just relax slightly. Unfortunately, his car had different ideas.

“No no no no no,” Chan said, turning the keys in the ignition and receiving a weak sputter from the engine as a result. “No, this can’t be happening right now.” He tried again, but got the same response. He slammed his head against the steering wheel. His phone was still in the drawer at home, so he couldn’t call for help.

So he did the same thing his car had done.

He broke down.

Ugly sobs ripped themselves from his chest as tears rolled down his cheeks.  _ I can’t do this right now. I can’t. _ He cried for a long while before finally dragging himself out of his Ford, locking it behind him and beginning the walk home. He began crying again on the way there, wiping vainly at his eyes as tears continued to pour from them. He stumbled through the front door and went up to his room, grabbing his phone from the drawer. He had several texts from Jackson and his other friends. He ignored them, clearing out all his notifications before curling up on his bed and crying into his pillow.

The doorbell rang, startling Chan horribly. He looked at his clock, the glowing numbers reading 11:47.  _ Who in their right mind would be here?  _ He thought numbly, heading downstairs and opening the door. He was met with Jackson’s concerned gaze and immediately slammed the door in his face. He slid down the door to the floor, curling his knees up to his chest. “Please go away,” he said, tears threatening to roll down his cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I can’t do this right now.”   
  


A soft sigh could be heard from the other side of the door before Jackson walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll try and update more consistently, especially now that I have more time to write, courtesy of covid-19 :DD


	3. The Band Bus (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's play truth or dare"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit i'm back

Days of practice turned into weeks of practice which turned into the awaited day. The first competition.

And Jisung was not ready.

He was ready in the sense that he knew the choreo, he knew the drill, and he knew the counts. He was not ready in the sense that he could not perform in front of people, especially not when he was being judged and graded on his performance, and just a single mishap on his part could cost the band first place.

As they held a meeting before the band left in the band room, Jisung found himself dwelling on this thought. He applied his show makeup with slightly shaky hands, listening to Mr. Park go through the agenda for the day, though he wasn’t truly hearing it. He was startled out of his reverie by a pair of black Drillmasters kicking at his foot. He looked up to meet the worried gaze of Changbin.

The older gestured at Jisung’s shaking hands. “You okay?” he mouthed.

Jisung nodded and turned back to his mirror, which made Changbin all the more worried.

“Bus assignments are posted on the door,” Mr. Park said. “Make sure you have everything, then check the list and head out to your bus.”

The members of the band began chattering among themselves as they grabbed their things and headed to the door, though Jisung stayed behind to avoid most of the crowd and finish his makeup. After he did so, he stood and headed to the assignment list, scanning it for his name.

“Bus two,” he mumbled to himself, hoisting his guard back up over his shoulder and heading out to the buses. As he entered the bus, he looked around and was met with the friendly gazes of his usual group - except for Hyunjin, who looked more hostile. He slowly made his way back to them, and was pulled down into a seat next to Minho.

“Alrighty gang, we’re going to be playing some band bus games,” Chan said, as the bus started moving. “What should we start with?”

“Paranoia,” Minho said, a mischievous smile on his face.

“What’s that?” Jisung asked quietly, playing with his hoodie strings.

“It’s really simple. Someone whispers a question to someone else, and they say the name of someone who is playing as an answer,” Chan said. “Like, if I asked Jackson who he thought was most likely to become drum major after him, he would say, for example ‘Minho.’ But all you would hear is the person’s name. Then you flip a coin, if it’s heads you say the question aloud, and if it’s tails you don’t.”

Jisung nodded slowly. “Okay...”   
  


“I’ll start,” Minho said with a smirk, before leaning over the seat and whispering something into Felix’s ear.

The younger went bright red at the question, before squeaking out a “Changbin.”

“Interesting,” Minho said, glancing over at the sousaphone player, who paled slightly under Minho’s gaze.

“Tails,” Chan said. “Your turn to ask, Felix.”

Felix whispered something to Jeongin, who responded with “Chan!”   
  
Chan flipped the coin. “Heads.”   
  


“He asked who I’d trust most to give me advice,” Jeongin said.

Such a rhythm went on for a while, and Jisung found himself relaxing as the game progressed.

“I’m tired of this game,” Hyunjin announced after a while. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

“Is that alright with everyone?” Jackson asked, and the group nodded.

“I’ll start,” Seungmin said. “Minho, truth or dare?”   
  
“Truth,” Minho said. “Your dares are always evil.”

“Have you ever had a near death experience?” Seungmin asked.

Minho tapped his finger against his lips. “I fell down the stairs at my house once and broke both of my legs, I’d say that’s the closest I’ve been to dying. Anyways, Jackson, truth or dare?”

“Truth, man,” Jackson said, leaning forward to hear better.

“Have you ever sent nudes to someone?” Minho asked mischievously.

Jackson smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Yes, I have.”   
  


Chan whistled through his teeth. “Damn, so much for being classy.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Chan. Hyunjin, truth or dare?”   
  


“Dare,” Hyunjin said.

Jackson’s eyes shone with mischief and he grinned at the boy.

“I dare you to kiss Jisung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger
> 
> join my discord!!  
> https://discord.gg/T2kn3Yz

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism wanted please and thank you


End file.
